


Philippe

by RosaHPSource



Category: Versailles (TV 2015)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 20:21:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15227130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosaHPSource/pseuds/RosaHPSource
Summary: ‘Leave, then. Leave! You’ll be provided with everything you need and more, don’t worry’ shouted Philippe, without thinking. There was a pause. Those words made him feel sick to the stomach. He saw the hurt the Chevalier was trying to conceal and he looked away. ‘No.’ That made Philippe turn around. ‘No’ continued the Chevalier, with a stubbornness in his voice . ‘I won’t. Did you hear what I said? I don’t want to leave.’





	Philippe

There once was a young prince who liked to wear dresses, sometimes. His brother was destined to become a very powerful king and their mother didn’t want him to be overshadowed by his younger sibling. The queen often called Philippe ‘my little girl’ and dressed him as such. This came to suit Philippe very well. He liked the finer things and enjoying himself, but he also wanted to do something meaningful with his life. Although he probably wouldn’t get the chance. Being eternally in his brother’s shadow was slowly taking its toll on him and he needed a solution. Something to drag him out of the darkness and into the light.  
Philippe’s brother, Louis, turned twenty and the queen decided to organise a party for his birthday. All the most powerful and wealthy people in the country were invited. Philippe was prepared for a long evening of introductions, small talk and a perpetual smile plastered on his face. Another evening out of the spotlight, in accordance to his mother’s wishes. According to plan, about a hundred guests arrived at their palace. The band was playing, the decorations were up and Philippe was certain that the gowns worn that evening were the most beautiful and glamorous in the world. Some time later, having performed all his formal duties, he grabbed a glass of red wine and disappeared to a corner of the grand hall.  
Because of the lively music that led to dancing, nobody noticed as Philippe left and moved to a smaller room. As soon as he entered he collapsed on one of the red velvet chairs. He could still hear the music, but softly. This room was full of books and he had always loved it, when it was empty. He was just begging to relax when, suddenly, he heard a moan from a corner. He jumped to his feet and saw two boys kissing by the big window. A pair of pale green eyes looked up and immediately locked with his. For a second everything froze. All of a sudden, Philippe felt very overwhelmed and rushed out of the room, rejoining the loud celebrations. He had slept with guys before, never mind kissed them. So why had he had such a strong reaction? He felt a bittersweet kind of nostalgia, similar to the one he had felt when Louis was having lessons and not him: only the king needed a full education and, no matter how much he asked, Philippe knew he would never get it. It was something he wasn’t allowed, but that he wanted anyway.  
The next day, Philippe was woken up by one of the servants and he headed to the dining room to have breakfast. His mother and brother were already seated at the table, eating their eggs. ‘The Duke and Duchess of Clichy were disappointed that you left early, Philippe. Their daughter, Marie, was with them and they wanted to introduce you.’ The queen never asked her sons direct questions, but Philippe still knew that her sentence required an answer. ‘It was a shame but, if you must know, I had stomach ache. Too much quail.’ He saw his brother looking at him quizzically, but his mother didn’t reply. ‘Henrietta and I wanted to play cards with you’, Louis told him later, out of their mother’s earshot, as they left the dining room. ‘I wouldn’t have been good company’, said Philippe. He needed space.  
As there weren’t any social engagements for the day, he decided to walk in the gardens and was pleasantly surprised to find them almost empty. It was a bright, crisp spring morning. There were only a few groups wondering by the fountains. They must be some of the guests from the party. The thought startled him, bringing him back to the previous evening. What would have happened if he had stayed in that room, last night? He walked to the far end, past the fountains, and sat on a bench partly hidden from view by some well-kept bushes. He heard footsteps and looked up, expecting that his brother had followed him. His stare was met by a pair of green eyes that bore into his, the same as the night before. He remembered them well and it took Philippe a moment to recover. He noticed the boy’s refined features and the self-confident smile etched across his face. ‘Hello, Monsieur. I beg your pardon for startling you, but would you mind if I joined you?’ said the boy, smoothly. ‘You may.’ Philippe moved to one side of the bench and the boy sat down, leaving some space between them. ‘Perhaps I should introduce myself, I am the Chevalier de Lorraine.’ Philippe was surprised at the boldness and the directness of the approach. ‘Delighted to meet you.’ They regarded each other for a moment and then the Chevalier seemed to make a decision. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to make your acquaintance last night. The Duke de Severin and I were having a… heated discussion about music and were caught off guard by your entrance. I hope we didn’t surprise you too much and that you didn’t take offence.’ The words in the little speech had been chosen carefully. So that’s why the Chevalier was seeking him out! The was a note of insecurity in his voice which told Philippe that the boy was worried about the repercussions of his actions. He might be worried that Philippe would inform the queen about his 'misconduct' in palace grounds and about the embarrassment that might befall him. Philippe smiled. ‘I was caught off guard, but I wasn’t at all offended by your… discussion. It won’t be mentioned again, if that’s what you wish.’ The Chevalier seemed slightly taken aback by his words, he evidently hadn’t expected that reaction, but then he broke into a genuine smile that reached his eyes. Philippe couldn’t help but notice how handsome he was, with his long blond hair and sharp cheekbones. He found himself saying, before he could stop himself: ‘Have you known the Duke de Severin long?’ ‘Yes, we are old friends’, the Chevalier replied simply. At that, Philippe felt a surge of emotion he couldn’t quite place. ‘Who do you spend time with in this beautiful palace?’ asked the Chevalier. ‘My brother mainly, and our cousin Henrietta.’ ‘And do you have fun?’ There was humour and an earnestness in the Chevalier’s question that prompted Philippe to look away and reply, with a small smile: ‘Once in a while. Within regulations.’ The boys locked eyes again and a certain understanding seemed to pass between them. There was a sound of footsteps and a handsome, well-dressed woman appeared. ‘Philippe! That’s where you are. We’ve been looking for you. Monsieur, I hope my son isn’t intruding on your time?’. So the Chevalier was also called Philippe! ‘Not at all, in fact, Madame. We were having a discussion about music’ he said with a grin, not daring to meet the Chevalier’s eyes. ‘Oh, how interesting. Unfortunately, I believe we need to get back to the palace in order to prepare for lunch’ said the woman giving him a small curtsy, as a man joined them. Philippe took this to be the Chevalier’s father and his presence altered the other boy’s countenance. Now that they were facing each other again, as the Chevalier took his leave, the prince understood that the self-confident smile on the other Philippe’s face was a mask to protect himself from harsh circumstances and people: the Chevalier's father really seemed like a force to be wreckoned with.  
Lunch was a grand affair and all the guests were invited to join the royal family in drinking red wine and eating a lot of cheese and various types of meat. Philippe was sat at the central table and he noticed the Chevalier at the table on the left. He was by the Duke de Severin, he realised with a shock. They were talking quietly, but the Chevalier spotted Philippe staring at them and smiled. The Duke focused on his food rather intently, looking forlorn. Philippe doubted a potato could cause such melancholy. He looked away and didn’t make eye contact for the rest of the meal.  
In the afternoon, the guests were invited to play cards in the salon. Philippe had rather recently been allowed to attend these gathering and he made the most of it. ‘Would you care to join our table, Monsieur?’ asked the Chevalier as soon as he saw Philippe, who nodded and took the empty seat. No sign of the Duke de Severin, he thought. After half an hour, Philippe was winning the last round. The two ladies who were also playing had already put their cards down in defeat. ‘I fear I have given away my bluff, but would you allow me another game?’, said the Chevalier as he briefly touched Philippe’s leg under the table. ‘I’m afraid I’ve had enough, the games I usually play don’t involve bluffing.’ He moved his leg away. Philippe was terrified, how could the Chevalier have such an effect on him? He was a prince! ‘Some people find games that don’t involve any bluffing boring’ said the Chevalier with a small laugh. ‘Well, I’m not one of them.’ The two ladies that witnessed this exchange looked a little confused as Philippe rose to get himself another glass of wine. When the Chevalier left the salon, he passed Philippe a book and said ‘I believe this is one of yours, Monsieur.’ It was a copy of As You Like It by Shakespeare and it contained a scribbled note which said 'Oh, how bitter a thing it is to look into happiness through another man’s eyes!’. Philippe found himself smiling. Had he been a coward? How bad could the consequences be if he pursued the Chevalier? He decided it was worth the risk.  
As the Chevalier walked down the corridor near his room the next morning, he felt a hand grab hold of his arm and steer him into an empty, small lounge. He turned to see the prince. He recognised the searching look and the kindness behind the blue eyes. ‘I need to talk to you’, the prince looked a bit agitated. ‘Talk? Sure, I still have a couple of hours before I need to get ready to leave. I think.’ ‘You’re leaving today?’, the prince looked disappointed. He collected himself immediately though. The Chevalier was willing to bet that letting your guard down wasn’t often permitted within the royal family. ‘You can ask me anything you want and I’ll try and be honest, but I can’t promise you’ll like my answers’, the Chevalier said with a grin. Once again, he was struck at how easy it was to forget whom he was addressing. That beautiful brown hair and those big blue eyes didn’t help. ‘Did you know that my name is also Philippe?’, blurted out the prince, with a smile. He looked more at ease now. The Chevalier shook his head, ‘Could I call you that?’ ‘Yes.’ The Chevalier was already no stranger to manipulation and deceit, and those had been his intentions when he had first approached the prince. But they seemed to understand one other and there was something about him that he trusted. ‘How long have you and the Duke been… ’ ‘Intimate? About two months. But I ended it with him yesterday. It had been a long time coming, it was getting tiresome. We are better suited as friends, as we’ve always been’, said the Chevalier truthfully. ‘Especially if there are much more exciting prospects in view.’ He was putting himself on the line, especially after he had been rebuffed yesterday, in the salon. He really thought he wouldn’t see the prince again and that’s why he had left that note. He knew it might provide some encouragement to live his life fully, if encouragement were needed. This was the king’s brother he was talking to and he was playing a dangerous game. He could get badly hurt, and that is if things went well, he thought ruefully. Or killed. ‘I wonder if you’d find me boring so soon as welk?’ said the prince, moving closer. It felt like there were soft sheets of electricity connecting them. Another step closer. ‘I doubt that very much, Philippe.’ Their mouths joined and tongues wrestled. After a moment, the Chevalier felt that he would never want to stop; he was so happy. Who would have thought.  
‘This is bliss’, thought Philippe. It felt so good. He had kissed his cousin Henrietta a few times a couple of years earlier, and so had Louis, but this felt completely different. It hadn’t been quite the same with the Duke de Nevers either, the first boy who’d turned his eye. Unlike Nevrers, the Chevalier kissed him as if they were equals. There was a slow, burning sensation that was taking over him. He couldn’t get enough. He liked brushing against the sharp angles of the Chevalier’s face and he loved the soft sounds he was making. As if he was enjoying himself as much as him. He took the boy’s face in his hands and they regarded each other as they took a breath. There was a questioning look in those bright green eyes that slightly disarmed Philippe. He wanted to trust the Chevalier and he wanted him to know that he himself could be trusted.  
‘So, this was nice, Monsieur. I need to run along now though’, said the Chevalier with a smile, pretending to leave. The prince hasn’t been teased enough, thought the Chevalier. Philippe took hold of his arm, stopping him. ‘Not so soon.’ ‘Never’, replied the Chevalier and he kissed the prince’s hand. There was a painting on the wall opposite them which attracted his attention, it looked like a portrait of a boy and a girl. ‘Who are they?’, asked the Chevalier. ‘That’s my brother and that’s me, in the pink. My mother couldn’t allow me to be mistaken with the king’, replied the prince. ‘The style suits you, you should still wear it.’ ‘I do, sometimes’, replied Monsieur. The last sentence had been spoken without reflection. The Chevalier couldn’t find any trace of embarrassment on the prince’s face though. There was a strength there that he hadn’t spotted before. The Chevalier saw how the boy’s spirit had been slightly broken and then moulded by his mother, before growing hard again. In self-preservation. ‘Oh, Philippe. Please show me’, he replied gently. It made the Chevalier sad to know that he’d be leaving him soon to the mercy of his family and the stifling royal protocols. He was beginning to like Monsieur’s rather intricate personality traits, although he’d have to demolish that propensity for self-loathing that he’d already detected. How annoying! His plans of gaining his own purpose through the prince had been vanquished in a day. Unfortunately, the Chevalier found that the prince had now somehow become part of his purpose. Darn, how stupid.  
Philippe stood out from behind the wardrobe doors in him teal-coloured dress, still half undone. The Chevalier stood up from the bed and started doing up the laces at the back of the dress, kissing his neck slowly. When he finished, Philippe turned round. He had felt vulnerable about showing the Chevalier this side of his personality. The Chevalier helped him put his hair up and then appraised him with a discerning look. ‘You look wonderful, darling’, he said with an open smile, spinning him round and round the room. He then held him tightly for a moment and kissed him. Philippe had never felt such a kinship with anyone in his life, not even his brother. The Chevalier eventually helped him out of the dress and, once Philippe was wearing his other clothes again, said: ‘I need to leave.’ There was no emotion in his voice. ‘Okay.’ Was this it? As the Chevalier was about to open the door, Philippe asked: ‘Can I see you again?’. ‘You’re the prince. You tell me, Philippe.’ He walked out.  
Philippe asked if they could hold a party to celebrate the summer season. He made sure that the Chevalier’s family was invited. He was nervous about seeing him again, it had been three months. They had written a couple of times, but neither of them were big writers. When everyone had arrived, the royal family was introduced and they walked out amongst the guests. After chatting with Henrietta for a while, Philippe finally saw the Chevalier and excused himself. He walked towards him, his heart in his chest. Strange expression, he had the time to think. As if that were a revelation, was your heart anytime anywhere but your chest? ‘Hello.’ ‘How are you?’ ‘Happy to see you, Monsieur.’ ‘I can only speak to you properly later.’ He couldn’t help the grin and Philippe noticed a matching one on the Chevalier’s beautiful face. After dinner, and having danced two dances with Henrietta, Philippe saw the Chevalier across the room and walked in that direction. Instead of talking to him, he walked into the smaller room where he had once seen him kiss the Duke de Severin. A couple of minutes later, the Chevalier walked in after him. ‘You look well.’ ‘I’ve missed you.’ ‘So have I’, said Philippe. All of a sudden, they were kissing and Philippe wanted more. ‘Come to my rooms tonight.’ The Chevalier smiled. That was the best night of Philippe’s life, up to then. There was no pretending. ‘So you… meant to fall off the bed right now?’ laughed Philippe, his eyes watering and belly hurting. ‘Of course, it’s a move called the Horse Dismount’, replied the Chevalier primly from the dark green carpet. ‘Right, right. Is it originally Italian? Because I've never heard of it’, Philippe kept laughing as he rolled off the bed and joined the Chevalier. They stayed in bed the next morning, sending away the servants that arrived to help. They exchanged words to communicate their joy and commitment. ‘I’ve persuaded mother to let your family and some other guests stay for a week.’ ‘We’ll have to make the most of it then.’ They were together as much as they could during the days and all night, every night.  
Philippe woke and hugged and kissed the figure of the Chevalier lying next him, by now familiar. It was the final day of his stay. The other Philippe woke with a sleepy, pleased sigh. ‘You need to get ready, they’ll wonder where you are.’ ‘I don’t care.’ ‘You will, if your father gets hold of you’, said Philippe. ‘But now I have the protection of the prince.’ ‘I am not the king.’ Once they were dressed, the Chevalier walked behind him and held him, looking at their reflections in the mirror in front of them. ‘I need to tell you this’, said the Chevalier in an uncharacteristically serious tone, ‘I might fool around and I might flirt with others. But I don’t want to share anyone else’s bed. I don’t want to be with anybody else but you.’ ‘How sweet, I didn’t know you cared’, said Philippe with a laugh. ‘Alright, sorry’, the Chevalier released him and moved away. ‘Hey… hey.’ Philippe touched his arm gently and took a deep breath. ‘I love you.’ There was a moment of silence as they both took the words in. Philippe continued, ‘I have no interest in a life without you. Do you understand?’. The Chevalier placed a hand against his cheek, moving his hair away, and gave him a kiss. It held a promise. The door opened out of the blue, and they both turned to see the king. ‘We are waiting for you downstairs, Philippe’, he said. He took a look at the Chevalier and swept out of the room. If he had been surprised in finding them together he hadn’t given it away. Philippe and the Chevalier looked at each other and started laughing, ‘Well, that’s one way to meet a king’. It had all been so sudden. ‘Listen,’ said Philippe, ‘he’ll be fine with us. Understand,’ he told him earnestly, ‘he will have me marry sometime soon and I will have to have children, but that won’t mean that I love you any less. I would like for you to live in the palace and stay with me, if that’s what you want as well?’ He had put his cards on the table and he very much hoped that the proposition would make the Chevalier happy, as well as him. ‘I want to be where you are, my love. You are the sun in my life now.’  
The Duke de Nevers returned to court about a year after Philippe had met the Chevalier. He was the first man the prince had ever been with, so not easily forgotten. Philippe saw him across the salon and thought that he hadn’t changed at all. That night, Philippe slept with him again because it was easy and because he knew that it would reopen old wounds. Deep down he thought that he didn’t deserve any better. For the next week, the prince and the Duke de Nevers always played cards together and always left the salons at the same time. As Louis was away deciding on a wife, Philippe organised a party. That night the orange blossoms scent filled the rooms and the wine never stopped flowing, hardly any of the men invited were wearing any shirts anymore. Philippe noted the Chevalier’s absence. ‘Are you happy we’ve reconnected?’ Philippe asked the Duke, as they sat in a corner. ‘Of course I am, Monsieur.’ ‘You know you can call me Philippe?’ ‘As you wish.’ That was often the duke’s response to his questions, realised Philippe. ‘Yes, but what do you wish for yourself?’ he asked the Duke. ‘To make you happy.’ ‘Surely you want to be happy as well? Someone to make you happy?’ ‘Nothing makes me happier than being with you’, replied the Duke. Philippe knew that Nevers had made a quick calculation and that that response was what he thought the prince wanted to hear. ‘Yes, because I can grant you favours and riches’, replied Philippe. 'I don’t think we should see each other anymore’ he added and headed to his rooms. The Chevalier stormed in a few minutes later as Philippe lay, fully dressed, on his bed thinking. ‘How could you? Parading that snivelling weasel in front of all our friends!’. Philippe stood up and was about to interrupt him, when the Chevalier continued: ‘Your mother put him in your path to focus all your indiscretions into a direction she could control. Did you not realise? Or is total and utter subjugation what you look for now? It’s not a life’, the Chevalier took a breath. ‘Not everyone is bent on manipulating and deceiving you. I’m here because I want to be. I’ve had enough of your insecurities!’ continued the Chevalier, eyes bright. ‘Leave, then. Leave! You’ll be provided with everything you need and more, don’t worry’ shouted Philippe, without thinking. There was a pause. Those words made him feel sick to the stomach. He saw the hurt the Chevalier was trying to conceal and he looked away. ‘No.’ That made Philippe turn around. ‘No’ continued the Chevalier, with a stubbornness in his voice . ‘I won’t. Did you hear what I said? I don’t want to leave.’ Philippe ran to him and squeezed him tightly, never wanting to let go. He kissed him slowly. He kissed him and tried to express his gratitude, rather a new emotion for him. He was also asking for forgiveness. ‘My darling, you are the brightest thing in the universe. Your mother has had you overshadowed for so long that you’ve forgotten, dear’ said the Chevalier, his arms around Philippe’s waist. Those words were like a balm for Philippe and they helped him get rid of some of the darkness inside him.  
A few months later, the day he married Henrietta came as no shock to Philippe. He’d seen it approaching as he’d learnt to expect a hangover after a night of heavy drinking. An inevitability, yet another thing in his life that had been decided by others. His brother had come to his rooms a couple of weeks earlier to speak to Philippe regarding the upcoming nuptials, asking him to make his new wife welcome. ‘I won’t give him up.’ Philippe had said it as a matter of fact, no emotion transpiring. ‘Your duties are to Henrietta.’ ‘And hers are to you, Louis.’ ‘The court will talk if things don’t change, you’ve had your fun up to now.’ ‘So have you! Everyone at court knows that. Why are we any different?’ Philippe sat back down on his bed, staring at the green carpet in front of him. There was a moment of silence. ‘I’m happy. I’m so happy’, said Philippe. ‘Please.’ He absolutely hated having to ask permission from his own brother. Louis looked surprised, but Philippe knew that he wouldn’t deny him a serious request like this. ‘Alright, keep the Chevalier.’ Louis was about to leave when he added: ‘Just make sure he doesn’t rob you of too much money.’ His brother would never really understand.  
Henrietta had separate rooms from his own and for the first week of their marriage Philippe avoided them. His own bed, with the Chevalier in it, suited him perfectly thank you very much. He had only had sex with two women before, both chamber maids. Neither of the experiences had gone well. The fist time he visited his wife was more successful. He enjoyed it, although the same might not have been said of Henrietta. He spent the next three nights in her rooms, trying to understand if he could get used to it. The Chevalier sulked and avoided him the whole time. The following evening, Philippe walked into his rooms after a day's hunt with his brother. The Chevalier followed him in and closed the door. ‘Have you had enough now, love?’ said the Chevalier, slowly walking towards him. ‘I tried.’ Philippe took his hand and kissed it, saying: ‘I tried to make it work and it did, somewhat. I just didn’t really want it to work, I think. I wanted you.’ Years of self-doubt and broken expectations fell on his shoulders again and the green eyes looking at him seemed to know how he felt. He continued: ‘We’ve always lived for the moment, but when you are sixty and old and broken I want you to remember that you’ve already made my life worthwhile. No matter what happens.’ The Chevalier closed his eyes, then gave him one of his rare genuine smiles. ‘How sweet, I didn’t know you cared’ he replied, using the words Philippe had once told him. The prince laughed and kissed him, holding him close. They hardly left the room for the next five days. From then on, Philippe rarely visited Henrietta’s rooms and when he did it was mostly to annoy his brother. Philippe had to admit that the future looked much brighter with the Chevalier by his side. It would definitely be more entertaining.


End file.
